Eight Little Words
by denise1
Summary: A fic based around In the Line of Duty - and a very old fic of mine


Eight Little Words

by

Denise

Daniel

            You know, life is strange.  On Nasyia Jolinar jumped into Sam.  She was an unwilling host to an alien being.  Just like my Shau'ri.  I'm ashamed to admit it, but I...I think I actually hated her for a minute or two.  OK, maybe it wasn't really hate. It was more like an overwhelming, paralyzing, gut-wrenching fear.  Sam as a host.  Oh God, it was a nightmare come true. I mean that's the one thing everyone here dreads.  There are combat hardened Marines who have such an intense fear of becoming hosts I've heard rumors of 'shoot me first' pacts.  Especially after that time with Kowalski.  That really brought the danger home.  Losing Kawalski was...well it was bad.  It was awful to see the irreverent Major turned into a cold-blooded killer.  And just my luck I decide to take a nap in the same room with doc's body.  The memory of that cold, lifeless arm flopping down...ugh I still get the shivers.

            The creature in Sam...he, Jolinar, was different.  OK...so he did threaten to blow us up in the gate room.  That part was scary, but you know I really was so confused at the time it actually took me a few minutes to realize I could have died. Go figure.

            I couldn't go visit her, not for a while.  It...when I finally went...it was all I could do to keep from seeing Shau'ri.  Was this what was in store for her when we get her back?  Seeing Sam pacing that cell, I could imagine 'Sam' the internal person 'pacing' in her cell, her own unresponsive body. In a sick way it made me think of one of those Russian dolls, you know the ones where you open up one to find another.  And if you keep going you find a tiny little doll, buried deep inside.  Sam, the person we'd literally lived and died with was stuck somewhere in the tiniest part of that doll.

            I didn't find out until later how close she'd come to dying,...well staying dead.  Jack told me last night how he'd held her when she'd died.  How he'd done CPR until Frasier arrived.  I heard from Janet how he refused to leave the infirmary even when the base was under attack.  Of course that meant Teal'c shot me with the Zat.  I can do without experiencing THAT again thank you very much.  I actually found out Jolinar died, almost taking Sam with him, when Hammond ordered Teal'c to take me to the infirmary.  I have to agree with Jack.  I really spend too much time in Janet's domain.  With Jolinar and the Ash'rak dead, and best of all Sam still alive...it should have been over.  But it was just beginning.

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Jack

            "It gave it's life for me. It saved me." Those were the last words I heard Carter, Sam say.  She's been lying in that bed for days now.  At first she just slept. Janet said that was normal.  Lack of oxygen, all the drugs, they damage a body even as they work to save it. Not to mention the damage done by that bastard Ash'rak.  I swear if Teal'c hadn't have already killed him...well I picked up a few things in Black Ops that I'd like to try on him.  Anyway, I can go for her body needing to recover.  But after a couple of days...it became clear there was more...much more going on.  She wouldn't eat, she wouldn't drink.  I think she only slept when her body took over and made her.  Doc had to leave the IVs in so she wouldn't damage herself anymore.  I'd visit her, try to talk, to get her to respond to me.  If anything she'd withdraw deeper into herself.  She was like one of those cicada shells Charlie would try to play with.  Outside a perfect replica, but the inside was hollow, empty.  I brought her food from outside the base, heck even chocolate, anything to get her to eat.  IVs can sustain a body only so long.  The only response I got was her rolling away, turning her back on me...on us all.  When kindness didn't work, I tried ordering, heck I even yelled at her...that pissed Janet off royally.  All yelling seemed to do was make her pull herself up tighter, curling up in a fetal position like some kid afraid of being hit.  Janet didn't have to lecture me for that one.  Watching Sam act afraid of me was the worst punishment.  Never in my life has a woman been afraid of me.  Add that to the guilt I already felt over her getting invaded in the first place.  Oh yeah, let's not forget my blind belief in the security of this base.  You know, the same belief that allowed that Ash guy to break in and torture my captain to death.  Even after that snake in Sam's head warned us.  I figure I'd let her down three times in less than a week.  Dammit, I'm her CO. I'm supposed to protect those in my command.  If I protected her any better I'd have shot her myself.  There has GOT to be a way to fix this.

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Janet

            Jack came to me with an idea yesterday. I honestly can't say I'm too fond of it.  I know Sam and Cassie have a special bond, I mean Sam saved her life.  Cassie may not totally understand it but she knows that when Sam stayed with her in that silo, she was willing to die with her so Cassie wouldn't be left alone in the dark.  Oh she spun some story about knowing the signal or whatever couldn't trigger the explosive but that's a load of horse hockey.  She risked being vaporized to comfort my daughter.  That's something you don't forget.  I just don't know how Cassie will react.  She woke me up again last night, screaming that Sam was going to kill her, that Sam was a Gou'ald...just like the Gou'ald who killed everyone on her planet and turned HER into a walking time bomb.  I don't know.  My first response to Jack was a resounding HELL NO. Now at 3am, I'm looking at two people, both hurting horribly.  Maybe they can fix each other?  Maybe I was wrong?  Maybe it's the wine talking?  Tomorrow's Saturday, I'll talk to Cassie, see if she'll see Sam.  If this doesn't work...I don't want to send Sam away, but if she doesn't snap out of this soon, she's going to be beyond my care.  And if I have to send her out of here, it'll go into her record and her career's over.  I mean I know we're keeping this Gou'ald thing secret.  We have to.  If that prick Maybourne finds out, Sam's going to spend the rest of her days as a guinea pig in some secret lab somewhere.  I honestly think I'll slip her a little too much sedative before I let that happen.  No one deserves that, OK maybe a certain ex-husband could benefit...no, now I definitely know it's the wine talking.  Tomorrow morning I'll talk to Cassie.  It's because of Sam I have a daughter to raise,  I can at least try everything possible to help her.

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Daniel

            Jack and his crazy ideas.  He must have been a genius in a past life.  It actually worked.  Sam took one look at Cassie and started to cry.  Just a little, but heck it was  better than the lifeless shell she'd been for days.  Janet let her out of the infirmary after a few more days.  Sam still wasn't 100 but at least she was eating a bit.  I've found myself spending a lot of time in her lab.  That's where she spends her days now.  It's going to be a while before she's cleared for gate travel.  We spend a lot of time poring over MALP images or some of my artifacts.  We talk, we debate, but it's different somehow.  That spark I first saw on Abydos is gone.  She still has the smarts but the fire that would light up those blue eyes of hers, it's missing, or more accurately hidden.  I can tell something's bothering her, eating her alive.  I've noticed she's been avoiding Jack and Teal'c.  When they stop by to visit, she tenses up even more.  She won't look them in the eyes.  Jack has no idea what's bugging her.  I heard from Janet how he yelled at her, but Sam's career military, getting yelled at is no big deal.  And it doesn't explain her wariness of Teal'c.  Jack's decided to give her some room.  He suggested maybe I can help her since I'm the only person she's really talking to.  Oh don't get me wrong, she talks to people, but only when they talk first. 

Would you believe it Ferretti even stopped by.  He brought her a battered toy, some astronaut doll.  He actually got a smile out of her.  It wasn't one of those face splitting, eyes sparkling, all encompassing grins she used to give, this was more like the enigmatic little smile I'd seen on too many family pictures.  You know the type...the 'I'm not totally happy but I really need to smile' smile.  But it was a reaction.  I'm actually starting to think things may be OK.

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Jack

            Finally, Sam's cleared for active duty.  OK, so it's really a sort of limited, would you get the hell out of my office, one mission at a time, I really don't feel good about this, sort of active duty.  I managed to convince a rather skeptical Dr. Frasier maybe what Sam needed was to get away from this place.  Nothing like exploring an alien world to take your mind off your troubles.  Actually this whole mission took some major finagling.  First I  had to convince Frasier to clear Sam,  but she'd brought up the important fact that Sam being distracted could get her and us killed.  Then Teal'c actually suggested maybe we could re-explore worlds already investigated by other teams.  Seems like a good compromise.  We could get Sam off world while minimizing the danger.  At first Hammond was reluctant, hell he was damned adamant about it.  He doesn't want to put her in unnecessary danger.  I think he finally relented when Janet brought up that if she didn't come around soon, she may never come back to us.  That's when I found out her father and  George were old friends.  I think the prospect of telling an old buddy his only daughter had been permanently damaged while under your command was something George definitely did NOT want to do. 

            So here we are, standing in the gate room, waiting for Harriman to dial up P9K764. A boring little world, but Daniel, god bless him, I had no idea how sneaky he could really be, absolutely believes SG-5 missed something.  As for Teal'c and I, we're more than willing to endure a couple of milk runs if they bring Sam back.  When I look over at Sam, I really have no idea what is running through her mind.  She's here, kitted out properly, unfailingly polite and proper. The perfect subordinate. It sucks. Ya know I think I'd just about kill for an obstinate, incomprehensible argument from her right about now.  Oh well, maybe getting off world will help.  The gate whooshes open and we walk up the ramp.  Daniel and Teal'c go through, then I make that little 'ladies first' gesture that's become such a joke between us.  Sam doesn't smile like she usually does, she just nods and walks forward.  I sigh, it's going to be a long mission.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Daniel

            God this planet is boring.  I know it was my idea to come here, but lack of danger was my primary deciding factor not archaeological potential.  Jack and Teal'c play along, but I know they're bored too.  As for Sam, she just gathers her samples, makes all the right motions, but it's like having a robot along.  After a few hours, I decide to play helpless and get her to assist me.  She livens up a little.  She actually argued with me  a bit.  I started getting my hopes up.  Maybe Jack was right.  Then he and Teal'c returned from their patrol and she clamed right back up.  OK something is DEFINITELY wrong between them.  I tell Jack about it.  He's totally baffled.  He says he'll sit her down when we get home, try to get it out of her.  I suggest doing it here but he doesn't want to.  He and Teal'c found some footprints while they were walking.  The last thing he needs is an emotionally distraught captain if the natives decide to get restless.  I go off to my bedroll.  We're leaving in the morning.  We have 24 more hours left, but finding the natives change those plans.  Even I can't come up with anything worth risking our lives for.  Better to cut our losses and go home in one piece, especially when the planet is such a waste of time.

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Teal'c

            I agree with O'Neill's assessment of this planet.  When I was with Apophis we called such planets childs' toys.  They were where very young Jaffa would be sent to train.  To send a fully mature Jaffa to such a place as anything but an instructor would be a grave insult.  This trip is no insult however.  I find I would be willing to endure an extended stay here if it would help Samantha Carter recover.  I too am mystified with her apparent fear of myself and O'Neill.  Surely she is aware neither of us would hurt her?  Her behavior is most puzzling.  Perhaps the promised confrontation when we return to Earth will produce results.  I am glad we are returning.  Something about the footprints we found today is unsettling.  I agree with DanielJackson, there is no reason to remain here.

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Daniel

            This mission went to hell fast.  One minute we were walking towards the gate the next, unseen natives were shooting arrows at us, big arrows.  Teal'c heard them first, those incredible Jaffa ears of his.  Just as he shouted a warning, the first arrow planted itself in the ground at my feet.  Then we ran.  Thank god we were only a couple of hundred yards from the gate.  Jack screamed for Sam and I to get to the gate, open it up while he and Teal'c tried to cover us. We almost made it.  Then Jack took an arrow in his leg.  He fell, hitting his head in the process. And he calls ME clumsy. Anyway, Teal'c picked him up but we'd lost our head start.  We ended up pinned down just a few yards from the gate.  That's when Sam did it.  She tossed the remote at me, telling me to send the signal as soon as she got the gate open.  Then she dashed across the open grass and frantically began to dial the DHD.  Just as the gate opened one of their arrows found its target and she went down.  The next couple of minutes were nightmarish.  Teal'c desperately firing at the natives, me grabbing Jack's gun to imitate Teal'c's actions.  Somehow, I really don't remember how, Teal'c got Jack and me to the platform.  I grabbed Sam and dragged her through the gate while Teal'c fired his staff weapon, still supporting an unconscious Jack.  Sam and I landed in a heap on the ramp.  Teal'c and Jack came careening through  a few seconds later. 

              Jack was definitely lucky he was unconscious.  Hammond looked mad enough to literally chew nails. I swear there was steam coming out of his ears.  And Janet, who knew she knew those words.  Maybe we should get her and Jack into a cussing contest.  I'm just glad this little foray wasn't MY idea.  I have a bad feeling I'm going to pay for my part the next time I'm injured though. Hippocratic oath or not Janet's beyond pissed this time.

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Janet

            Why don't I ever learn?  Jack and his brilliant ideas.  Jesus Christ he almost got himself and Sam killed.  They'll both be fine by the way.  Jack just has another scar for his collection and a nice gooseegg on his hard head.  Sam was hit in her left shoulder, thank god for a nice tough leather gun strap.  That's what kept the arrow from going more than a couple of inches in.  She lost a little blood, but she's had worse, believe me, I know.  She can go home in a few hours.  Jack on the other hand, he's gonna stay here for a while.  He's still unconscious, that takes all the fun out of it.  How the hell can I yell at him if he sleeps through it?  And that enema I've been contemplating, it loses its punch if he can't be awake to thoroughly appreciate the experience. 

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Jack

            Me and my bright ideas.  I know Janet's pissed, but gimme a break.  How the hell was I to know the natives would show up and start shooting?  I mean SG-5 said the planet was uninhabited.  We're going to have a little talk about the meaning of RECON later.  My head is killing me.  If I didn't know better I'd swear she was giving me sugar pills instead of painkillers.  And Hammond, he knows I didn't do this on purpose but he's hacked off too.  All in all this mission sucked.  So much for a milk run.  All I really want to do is go home and drown my sorrows in a few beers, a pizza,  and some nice violent hockey.  But I can't.  Not after what Danny told me.  I know Sam got us out of there, but it wasn't right.  Dammit she knows better than to expose herself like that.  Teal'c even agreed, what she did was brave but crazy.  I knew a guy once who acted like that, throwing himself into harm's way every opportunity he could.  I wrote the condolence letter to his wife a few weeks later.  The talk I'd promised myself back on the planet was going to happen, no matter how far she retreated.  If Janet doesn't let me out of this damned infirmary soon, I'll let myself out.  Hell she can't get any madder than she is now.

            Finally she let me go.  Of course I lied to her, told her Daniel would drive me home.  But Danny'd already left.  As long as she doesn't check the sign in sheet I'll be OK.  I pull up to Sam's place, it's dark but I knew she has to be in there.  I mean, not to sound cruel, but she doesn't have much of a social life.  If she's not out with Danny, me or Janet, she's not out.  I knock first, then I try the door.  It's not locked.  I walk in slowly.  I can smell the fireplace and see the flickering of the flames reflected off the wall.  I walk into her living room.  She's sitting on the couch, watching the fire, still wearing her torn and bloody fatigues.  I take off my jacket and sit beside her.  It's then that I see the bottle.  I pick it up. Whisky, not her usual drink.  Sam's more the beer, wine or margarita type. 

            "Good stuff," I say, putting it back on the table.  She gives me a half-hearted one-shouldered shrug.  Janet's sling is lying discarded on the coffee table.  She's not going to like that.  "Ya know, I'll bet the painkillers you're on don't mix well with whisky."  Another shrug. OK, time for another tactic. "You saved my butt today. Course you were also pretty stupid about it." I pick up the bottle and take a swig of the whisky.  "Exposing yourself like that, hell my drill sergeant woulda shot me himself for being so stupid."  She just sits there, taking another sip from her glass. I force the next words out.  God let me be wrong.  "Unless of course that's what you had planned. Little suicide  in the line of duty."  That gets a reaction.  She reaches over and yanks the bottle out of my hand.

            "Get the hell out of my house," she snaps. Damn, I wanted to be wrong.

            "You don't really expect me to leave you here like this?" She just snorts and shakes her head.

            "Wouldn't be the first time," she mutters, almost too quietly for me to hear.

            "Now what the hell does that mean?" She just sinks deeper into the sofa, crossing her arms over her middle.  I reach over and grab her arm, pulling her around so I can see her face. "God Damn it Carter, talk to me! Let me help you!"  She yanks her arm out of my grasp, gets up from the sofa slamming her drink on the table and  stalks back to her bedroom.  I hear her pad back a few seconds later.  I get up to face her.  Ice runs down my spine when I hear the all too familiar snap click of a pistol being cocked.  Shit, is she going to chase me out at gun point?  She walks  up to me and hands it to me, butt first.

            "Why don't you finish it then?" she says in a dead little voice I hope never to hear again.  I'm looking at this gun held in her hands, hands that are amazingly steady considering how little whisky is in that bottle.

            "Finish what?" I ask, trying to wrap my brain around her reasoning.  What the hell is she talking about? She looks up at me, a question in her eyes.

            "The only good Goa'uld is a dead Goa'uld," she states. Those eight little words...God I barely  remember saying them. Surely she doesn't...oh shit she does.  I reach out with hands that shake and take the pistol from her. She watches me, tears welling up as she waits for the bullet she thinks I'm going to send her way.  I meet and hold her eyes as I reach down to release the clip. She starts as it hits the floor with a tiny thud.  I clear the chamber and toss the now harmless weapon across the room.  She follows it with her eyes and looks back at me with a lost, clueless look on her face. I close the distance between us and put my hands on her quivering shoulders, careful not to put pressure on the bandage there. I wait until she looks in my eyes.

            "Sam. I. Don't. Want. You. Dead." I tell her, hoping my honest feelings get through to her.  She wrinkles her brow and asks me a question in a lost, helpless voice.

            "Then why didn't you come?" she cries as the tears spill down her cheeks and her knees give away.  She sinks to the floor at my feet as I stand there trying to comprehend what she just said.  Oh sweet Jesus, she thought we left her to die in that cell.  She thought we'd abandoned her like a broken toy or dirty shirt.  I look down at the woman in front of me, her hands held over her face, her shoulders shaking with heart-wrenching sobs.  I join her on the floor and pull her hands away. I can hear her whispered words.  "I kept hoping...I told Jolinar you wouldn't let us die...but you never came...you wanted me to die...it would be so much neater...just like Jonus...nice, neat ending." I wrap her in my arms and hug her tight.

            "Oh God Sam, I'm so sorry.  We thought you were safe.  There were a dozen checkpoints between him and you.  Two armed SFs, you should have been safe.  I thought you were safe. I'm so sorry...so, so sorry," I say as I start to rock her, like I used to rock Charlie after one of his bad dreams.

            "It hurt Jack, he hurt me so bad.  He made me do such horrible things.  I hate him, I hate what I did."

            "Ssh, he won't ever hurt you again.  He's dead, gone.  You beat him." She pulls back from me.

            "You don't understand.  He's not gone.  I still feel him inside me.  He's in my dreams...He may not control me but he's still here."

            "You mean flashbacks?" She shakes her head,

            "No, when I dream I see places I've never been, people I've never met.  I think of words I've never heard."

            "You're remembering things you've heard or seen from the other teams.  MALP images you've seen..." I say, trying to make sense of what she's telling me. She shakes her head again.

            "I've watched them all.  These are places we've never been."  How the hell do I respond to that?  Tell her it's OK to have a few alien dreams?...on second thought, why not?  Maybe if she stops fighting them it won't be so bad.

            "Look Sam, maybe these dreams aren't all bad."  she gives me that skeptical look of hers. "You said the...Tok whatever fight the Goa'uld..." She nods.

            "They're like rebels."

            "That's also what Teal'c said.  Maybe these rebels can help us.  Instead of fighting the memories...explore them.  There might be a name or a place...somewhere we can start to look."

            "I'll try..." she starts when I interrupt her.

            "No. DON'T TRY. Just let it happen.  Maybe if you don't fight them, they won't be so bad.  If it works, OK.  If it doesn't...That's OK too."  She closes her eyes and I hold her close for a few minutes. Then she sniffles, using the sleeve of her T-shirt to wipe at the tears still on her face. "Why don't you go get cleaned up. I'll scrounge for something to eat, OK?"  She nods and gets up off the floor and goes back to the bathroom.  I just sit there for a second.  I really can't believe what happened. How the hell could she...no Jack, getting mad isn't going to help things.  This whole Nasyia mission was one giant FUBAR from the very beginning.  Somehow Jolinar shattered the trust between Sam and me.  The best thing is to concentrate on fixing it.  I get up, the stitches in my left leg telling me just how much they don't like the way I've been sitting.  Hope I didn't tear any out.  Janet's still so pissed she'd probably use the stapler off her desk.  As I limp across the floor my foot kicks something.  I look down to see the discarded clip from her 9mm pistol.  I almost hurl on her carpet.  I bend down, pick up the clip and shove it into my back pocket.  A host of nightmarish  'what-ifs' run through my brain.  OK, snap out of it O'Neill.  Feel guilty later, fix it now.

            I start a pot of coffee and search for something to cook in her fridge.  Damn she has less food in her cabinets than I do.  I finally settle on scrambled eggs and toast, it's that or moldy Chinese and really freezer-burned ice cream. 

            A few minutes later I see a sheepish looking Sam standing in the doorway.  She's changed from the fatigues she'd been wearing to sweat pants and an oversized sweat shirt. Shit, it just made her look more like a little kid.

            "Perfect timing," I say as I slide the eggs onto a couple of plates. "Hope you like your eggs scrambled.  Every time I try for over easy, well they always end up scrambled."

            "Scrambled's fine," she says. I pick up the plates and head towards the living room. I motion towards the couch.  She sits down and I hand her the plate, sitting mine on the coffee table.  While she'd been in the bathroom I'd cleaned up the glass and partial bottle of whisky.  I'd also stuck her gun in my coat pocket.  I still don't know if I'll take it with me or not.  If she notices my tiny bit of housecleaning, she doesn't say anything.  I go and get the coffee.  When I come back to the living room I see her chasing the eggs around the plate with her fork.

            "They don't bite ya know," I tell her as I sit down her coffee.  I'm rewarded with a tiny grin and she takes a few bites.  I pick up the remote and turn on her TV.  I shovel eggs in my mouth as I flip between the different infomercials on the air.  I make a few wise cracks about the products, mainly to distract her from the fact I'm watching her eat. When I'd held her earlier, I realized just how much weight she'd lost.  I mean Sam never was chubby or anything, but heck she could give Danny a run for scrawny now.  She finally puts the empty plate on the table and sits back in the couch, munching on the toast and cradling the coffee.  My plate joins hers as I start to wish I'd put a bit of that whisky in my coffee.

            "Ya know, I considered eating a bullet once."  She turns towards me.

            "What?"

            "After Charlie...died...I'd sit in his room for hours, my gun in my hands, trying to get up the guts to pull the trigger."

            "Why didn't you?...I mean what?..." she stops, hearing how her words sound.

            "Two of West's goons came to the door.  They needed a moderately suicidal person to go to Abydos.  I went...the rest is history."  

            "But how?..."

            "I don't know.  When I came back I just didn't feel like dying anymore.  Skaara ...had a lot to do with that."  We just sit there for a while.  Then she speaks up.

            "So...what happens now?"

            "What happens...what?"

            "What happens with me?"

            "You come back to work, we go visit strange planets, keep Daniel from killing himself too often, you play in your lab.  Business as usual."  Sam shakes her head.

            "What about Maybourne?  What's he going to do?"

            "Drop off the face of the Earth if we're lucky.  He doesn't know what happened.  and we're keeping it that way."

            "But the General..."

            "Agrees with me that it's no one's business what happened.  You're going to be nobody's lab rat."  She slumps back on the couch.

            "Oh thank god," she says, real relief in her voice.  I shoulda thought of that.  She knows how hard Maybourne tried to get his hands on Teal'c. There's nothing he'd like more than an ex-host to experiment on.  I get up and  sit next to her on the sofa. 

            "Come here," I say as I put my arm around her shoulders.  She hesitates a minute then lets me pull her closer.  "What you do with Jolinar is what YOU want to do with Jolinar.  If you want to remember and try to use those memories, fine.  If you want to just forget the past coupla weeks ever happened, fine.  You set the rules.  I'll clear it with Hammond. OK?"  I feel her nod.

            "OK."  We sit there for the rest of the night, or morning, whatever, watching bad movies until both of us fall asleep. 

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Daniel

            Finally, things are back to normal.  OK, using normal to define a place where people getting de-materialized and flung across the galaxy is a daily occurrence is a bit odd, but hey it works.

            What ever Jack said to Sam, it did the trick. I mean it wasn't an over night miracle, but I think things are finally going to be OK.  Yesterday I caught her and Ferretti topside trying to use homemade propellant to make that doll he gave her fly.  And they think I do strange things.  Tomorrow we go to P3X755.  Sounds like it'll be interesting.

fin


End file.
